


Remembered Skills

by BishopDeaconCardinal



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BishopDeaconCardinal/pseuds/BishopDeaconCardinal
Summary: MacCready wonders if any of it means something to Deacon.
Relationships: Deacon/Robert Joseph MacCready
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	Remembered Skills

The breeze shifts through the leaves giving them a soft background noise. 

Shoulder to shoulder, neither of them made any movement to get up off the spread out sleeping bag and head to their respective tents. The fire crackles gently, the low light smoldering as it slowly died. 

MacCready watches the moonlight doing more work than the firelight, as Deacon follows the path of MacCready's arm with his fingertips. Deacon had one arm behind his head, the other linked with MacCready’s as he gently traces along his inner forearm while staring at the sky unseeing. 

MacCready knew all this because he was watching Deacon while Deacon looked at nothing. 

"You know," his voice was quiet, a murmur against the soft hiss of the fire, "You only ever touch me at night." He stutters a moment over his thoughts, "Er, in the dark, I mean." 

He knew Deacon would probably stop once he pointed it out, but he had to know. Deacon touched him a lot when it was just the two of them. A hand at the back of MacCready's neck, his fingers gently tangling with MacCready’s but not quite holding his own. MacCready thinks he kissed his palm once when he was falling asleep but he can't tell if he dreamed that or not. He doesn't think so. 

Deacon's fingers pause on his skin. A stilled movement only seeming to resume at the same time as Deacon's quiet breathing that MacCready hadn't realised had stopped until it started back. 

"I suppose so." He closes his eyes against the starlight pressing at them, "Does it bother you?" 

MacCready is so thrown off guard by Deacon's quiet continuance that he blurts his answer, "Sometimes." 

He nearly slaps a hand over his own mouth to silence the traitor. 

Deacon's eyes open halfway and he looks at him sideways, "I don't remember what it's like." 

Cryptic asshole, "What  _ what  _ is like?"

He closes his eyes again, "Touching. I don’t really- I don't remember how to do this casually. How to do it as me." 

MacCready feels his heart leap to his throat, "Remember? You used to do this more?" He wants to hop on the 'as me' part. Grab onto it with both hands and not let go. Was this just plain Deacon? No persona, no walls, no ulterior motive? 

Part of him is terrified it's another lie. 

Deacon shifts more onto his side, facing away from MacCready, "I used to be close to people. And touch came easy." He shifts the other way back over to face MacCready, "I can pretend and do it easily for people when...work demands it." 

He knows the word work is carefully chosen. They both know what he does but the embers of the campfire doesn't and who knows who it's reporting to. 

He's looking at MacCready and MacCready feels pinned. He knew Deacon got weird when he talked about himself. Lied, made up excuses. But he also knew that any pertinent information about himself was whispered or said in such a loud joking tone it was impossible to discern it from another blatant lie. Except like this. When he couldn't meet MacCready's eyes but he said it anyway. Except when they were alone. 

"So you're not at work, you're not rushed." He crooks his wrist so he can grab Deacon's wandering hand and pull his hand into his. The angle he's got it in it's more like he caught him, back of Deacon’s hand against his palm and fingers tucked, uncomfortably curled. "Am I special?" 

Deacon pushes MacCready’s hand off then follows it when he tries to put it down. He pushes his hand back in MacCready’s, this time linking their fingers together and pulling it over his stomach. It forces MacCready a little onto his side, but Deacon is seemingly prepared as he lifts his other arm and MacCready falls against him. He's tucked under Deacon's arm, head on his shoulder and hand laced with his on his stomach. 

He looks down at MacCready, "Do you wanna be?"

MacCready makes a point of making himself comfortable and kicks his leg over Deacon's, "Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter! @BDeCardinal


End file.
